


When The Hour Comes

by JustAStoryInTheEnd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jealous!Gladio anyone????, Jealousy, Romance, love me some arguments with that tension--
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAStoryInTheEnd/pseuds/JustAStoryInTheEnd
Summary: Time and time again, it continued to happen.Time and time again, Gladiolus watched as you were whisked away by a stranger or by an old friend. But eventually came the hour where it all came crashing down, the truth of his feelings getting the best of him.





	When The Hour Comes

**Author's Note:**

> A week overdue, but I managed to get it out here! Won't lie, I did struggle to find Gladio's characterisation, but I do hope that I wrote him well in this piece!
> 
> Feel free to find me and send requests through ch0cobros.tumblr.com!

You weren’t his, so why the hell was he feeling so wronged?

He was green, his blood boiling throughout his veins the instant his amber gaze found a sight that shouldn’t have been found.

There you were, standing on the other side of the diner, the widest of smiles gracing your face as you spoke to another. Now, this shouldn’t have bothered him, although in consideration of how close the other man stood beside you, an arm thrown across your shoulders as if he knew you far longer than he actually did, it rubbed Gladiolus off the wrong way. And he knew better than that, he was taught that jealousy was such an ugly thing, but he was still human in spite of being the next King’s shield, right?

* * *

Weeks had passed, and he still didn’t understand. 

Okay, maybe he did, but he also understood that he had no right to feel that way.

The night started out young, with you greeting him in your usual manner; a touch on his bicep here, a twinkle in your eyes there, and the carefree tone of your voice despite the professional set of the event. He had even made you laugh with a stupid joke about the supposedly overcritical guests in the ballroom, and all was seemingly going great until one of them caught your eye and asked for a dance.

He was in denial of his emotions at first, of course, deeming them to be nothing and willed himself to move his attention elsewhere, all as he stood at ease against a column near the open balcony. His outlook was sharper than usual with his fitted suit and tie, as it was compulsory in attending the event in the name of the Amicitia household.

“What is a handsome man like you, doing all by himself without a drink?” A voice pulled him out of his silent thoughts, his attention immediately placed onto the sudden new presence.

It was that of a woman, whose velvet dress hugged her figure well enough that it certainly left some people wondering.

It nearly had him gaping as well, although Gladiolus found himself to be in-control before the damage was done.

Nonetheless, he offered his charming smile, having had his dimples and smile lines appear, “Waiting for a beautiful lady, like you, to come around, and I wanted to be sober for it.”

A giggle was heard, but nothing was felt.

And that was when the mistake was made; he looked for you across the dance floor, only to have his stomach clench at the sight of you in the arms of man not him, dancing the night away.

* * *

Time and time again, it continued to happen. 

You were whisked away by a stranger or by an old friend, all the while Gladiolus kept the lid shut.

But came the day where it all came crashing down in the midst of an argument, his raging exterior going against your stubborn character. The situation hadn’t been anything big per se, just that a certain suitor had given him the vibes that screamed at him to not let you go.

Yes, you weren’t his, but that didn’t matter when it came to your safety.

“There’s just something about him that I don’t trust.” He told you.

You looked at him from where you stood in the middle of your apartment’s foyer, nearing the entrance to the lounge room. With a roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms against your torso and raised a brow. It was clear that you were far from the mood of dealing with whatever this was.

“Gladio, please, you don’t trust anyone that talks to me, but has anything bad happened? No, nothing” You sighed and took a step towards him, “You need to take a deep breath and trust me, okay? You’re not the only member of the Crownsguard here.”

“I’m not saying that you can’t defend yourself, I’m only saying that it’s best if we avoid any unwanted situation altogether from the start.”

Funny, he was starting to sound a lot like Ignis.

“Unwanted situation—”

“It’s better to be safe than sorry is where I’m trying to get at.” He had cut you off with a firm tone, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I’m… there’s something about the guy that doesn’t sit right with me _at all_.”

You tilted your head to the side, curiosity clearly expressed through your gaze, “And what exactly is it that doesn’t sit right with you, pray tell?”

“I looked into the company that he works for, and his name didn’t pop out in their databases.”

You paused, blinking as comprehension and realisation soon crawled into the depths of your mind. And once they had fully sunk in, the amusement was quick enough to turn into annoyance.

“You ran a background check on him?” You asked.

“I run a background check on everyone.” He said.

“You can’t just— Gladio, he’s no one of importance to have to check into his background in the first place! And the company he works at? They’ve been having problems with their systems for the past two weeks!”

“And what about his family? Where are they—“

“His dad walked out of the house when he was a kid and his mom is currently at Altissia staying with his aunt. I’m telling you, there’s no reason to be as suspicious as you are right now.” An angry huff, a glare thrown Gladiolus’ way as you stepped forward again.

Even with the shortening of the distance between you two, the man stood his ground without any sign of backing down. Instead, he mirrored your posture and with a hint of venom in the tone of his voice, he remarked, “Is that the story he told you? Because activity around his identity didn’t start until pretty damned recently.”

You chose to ignore the given point, and instead, ran your fingers through your hair in utter frustration. “I can’t believe that you even thought that it was a great idea to dig deep into his identity in the first place.”

“I’m just worried about what his motives are. You don’t know the guy!”

“I’m in the process of getting to know him!” You retorted.

“And what if in this process, you end up getting hurt?”

“I’m not going to get hurt— I don’t know why you’re being so uptight about this!”

“I’m just afraid of what might happen; what if I lose you?!”

“I’m not yours to lose!” Shouted words bounced off the walls, echoing throughout the room. You stood before him then, so very close yet so far, a fire threatening to burst beneath your eyes.

His anger, on the other hand, nearly faltered as the response repeated itself in his head; over and over again, hazing his thoughts for a moment’s while as you two simply stared at each other.

_I’m not yours to lose._

_I’m not yours to lose._

_I’m not yours to lose._

_I’m not yours to lose._

_I’m not yours to lose._

_I’m not yours to lose._

_I’m not yours to lose._

**_I’m not yours to lose._ **

That’s right, _you weren’t his._

He clenched his fists, a form of calm waving over him, like how the sea met with the shore. His shoulders remained straightened, his jaw tight as he searched for something in your defiant gaze. What he was looking for, he did not know, but a single glance to your lips had told you everything you needed to know.

It was a glance that lasted a second too long, and it barely registered to your thoughts.

With the way he towered over you, standing in the entirety of his six-foot-six height, you should have been intimidated. If you had been any other person, you would have spent the time cowering in fear. Instead, you did not move and there was no change in your expression; especially not as the muscles in his face gradually loosened and a breath was released.

“You’re right,” He started, “You’re not mine to lose.”

A short pause.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to scream, you wanted to yell, you would have fought him out of there if you had needed to, and he knew that. He knew you like he knew the back of his hand, and you knew him as much as you knew yourself to be a fighter. The friendship between you two was something built on years of mutual trust, understanding, and experience; you had his back just as how he had yours. But to what extent did the friendship reach? Where was the line, and where was the end? To what extent was he supposed to care for you? To continue to feel the constriction within his chest whenever he saw you smiling with another, getting close to a man who pretended to know you like he did? He wanted to ask you so many questions, knowing that it was his confusion that was getting the best of him. It was the sole explanation he could have offered were you to ask the reasonings for his actions.

You were driving him mad, but did you even know that?

He wanted to tell you of all of the times he held himself back from taking hold of your wrist, all to stop you from getting away. He wanted to pull you close, and caress your cheek as he got a taste of your lips. He wanted to do so many things to you and with you, but he couldn’t because you were nothing more than a friend.

A friend who drove him mad with every look, every smile, and every touch.

You then spoke of his name, syllables sounding so soft as they rolled off your tongue.

“I’m not a little girl who’s helpless,” you said, “And I’m glad that you’re looking out for me, but I don’t need you to guard me when it comes to these sorts of matters. If the guy does have some sort of hidden agenda, then I’ll figure it out myself and end things before it gets too far.”

You didn’t know, and so, you didn’t understand.

Another passing of silence.

Gladiolus looked at you with an expression so indescribable that it was almost suffocating.

With nothing left to say, in fear of things escalating further than they already had, the man turned on his heel and went to leave. But just as he reached for the door knob, you gripped his wrist and that was enough to break the little self-control he had left.

Thunder cracked and drummed throughout the night sky.

It happened so quickly; his mouth suddenly on yours, your face cupped between his hands.

He had acted without a thought, his vexation pushing his impulse over the edge. He dwelt within the feel of your lips’ warmth, before having his tongue effortlessly part them to taste and explore. He waited for you to stop him, to push him away and ask him whether he had lost his mind, because he was pretty sure that he did in the way that he was losing himself in you.

But then you had only angled your head ever so slightly and deepened the kiss, pulling him close as you dug your fingers into the back of his scalp.

He welcomed the pressure, pressing on as he teased and tugged on your lips whenever you asserted yourself forward for dominance. Then a sound of a moan escaped your throat, and that, too, he took into his mouth.

Desperation was the defining word of the kiss; hard and hot, overwhelming with feelings that were left unsaid. And he tried to express them as much as he could, attempted to pour them all out into the heated act.

Did you get it? Did you understand why he was being the way he was?

With the question in mind, Gladiolus slowly — and reluctantly — pulled backed with your lower lip caught between his teeth. He rested his forehead against yours, your breath fanning across his face as you sighed and collected your thoughts. He remained quiet with his eyes closed, embracing the silence that had shrouded the two of you alongside the patter of rain against the windowpane.

A line was crossed, and he was far from sure whether he could have taken a step back from it.

Not that he wanted to, either.


End file.
